Satisfied Now?
by aussie girl1990
Summary: He never liked her He didn't care about her, so why does he feel so lost? he shouldn't after all it was him who killed her. But even now her last words haunt him. THIS IS A PRACTICE STORY reviews are helpful. thank you


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Satisfied Now?

He never liked her; never even remotely cared about her and now that's she's gone why did he feel so…lost. He shouldn't after all he's the one that took her life and handed it over to death that was almost 3 years ago today. And still her last words haunt him in both wake and sleep.

Flashback

Her long brown hair was as bushy as ever, it didn't help that she hadn't brushed her hair in weeks, her creamy white skin scared and dry from lack of nourishment. Her eyes no longer a bright vivid color of hazel but a dark brown almost black that sunk back into her head.

She was lying on the dungeon floor wondering if she was to sleep would she wake; it was getting harder to breath and every bit of air hurt like something was stretching her skin.

He walked in as smug as ever with his trademark Malfoy smirk gracing his handsome features as it did back in their school days. He said nothing as he sat down on a wooden create that was in the tiny cell/room, which only had a joining room with a toilet.

She watched him like without feeling, without fear of what he might do. What could he do that hasn't been done to her before? The only thing he could do was kill her.

Finally she had had enough of the cold and uneasy silence. "I know you," her voice rasped out, "You wished me dead in our second year." She looked at him and saw a silent shock cross his face, that's what she called it a silent shock, you know they feel some shock but they don't show it.

When he spoke his words where full of emptiness, like his eyes. Stormy silver grey color eyes, looking in to them were like looking into a pure white room with no end, just nothing going on forever. His robes where a death eaters, she knew he was one, she had seen him around here more then a few times, but she wasn't scared of him. He bent down from his straight back posture and his neck length blonde hair fell forward into his eyes and some framing his face, making him look older.

He bent down enough so his face was near hers and whispered softly "I wish you death now, in fact I'm the one whose going to kill you." he pulled away and reached into his robes and pulled out a dagger and watched her face for and flicker of fear. To his own surprise, there were none, just pain flowing like an endless river in her eyes.

She nodded her head and slowly reached into her pocket of her tatted, ripped and torn robes which were covered with blood and mud as a joke by some death eaters. She pulled out a small piece of paper, it was written in blood, her blood, and on it were the places Voldemort was planning to attack.

Give this to them will you, it's not a lot but that's all I picked up." Holding out the paper to him, he took out of her hands and placed it in the pocket on the inside of his robes.

He asked her why she didn't want to go back and all she said was "I'm broken, they shouldn't have to see me like this." He nodded his head as if he understood. She had a feeling he might have known how she felt.

He picked up the dagger and she fought to keep the panic from making itself known, she was scared, she was scared that there maybe nothing waiting for her after death, nothing but darkness and she didn't want that.

She gasps in pain when he made a deep cut under her arm, and she started to bleed. She looked from the blood to him with more fear then she had felt before, the fear only increased after looking at his face which was filled with lust and disgust. Lust for blood, and disgust of her. She should have known he wouldn't kill her fast, but instead kill her slowly.

"You never changed." It wasn't a question.

He smirked, but something in it made her heart feel like it was bleeding, not for him but her friends, the people she thought as family.

With the dagger still in his hand he pushed the dagger into her skin "Why would I do that Mudblood?" unblinking he pulled the dagger across her chest making a shallow cut. Her eyes became wet with tears threatening to fall.

It was only 2 minutes later when she started to feel the dizziness of blood loss, coming from the deep wound under her arm.

Her eyes were starting to feel heavy but she could still see his eyes, the eyes that a first look was empty and now filled with lust and disgust. The tears were falling heavily into her hair, and broken sobs now wracked her fragile body.

She didn't want his eyes to be the last thing she sees, so she turned her head to look at the wall but he grabbed her chin and moved her head and held her in place.

He used the other arm to hold the dagger above her barely beating heart and pushed down enough to pierce the skin. "I." he thrust the dagger down into her worn heart "Will. Be. The. Last." With each word he drove the dagger in harder and faster with a rage while listening to her screams. "Person. You. Ever. See." He pulled the dagger out of her almost lifeless body and her cries died down to small sobs.

He was panting, out of breath "I am better than you, you filthy Mudblood. I am and always will be." She started to cough up blood, but he was still holding on to her chain and started to choke. He bent down and kissed her bloody lips bruising and biting them, as though he was trying to claim ownership over her.

He let go of her and got up, turned to the door to leave when he heard laughter, sad laughter coming from the near dead girl on the floor. He turned and looked down at her.

Her skin was more of a ghost white, her cherry lips, pale, her dark brown eyes almost glazed over and he could tell she was clinging to life, even if it was only for a few seconds more.

She looked up at him and smiled; if his eyes are going to be the last thing she sees then she'll have the last word.

In a small voice so faint, but he could hear.

"Satisfied now?" she smirked as she got the last word in, her eyes glazed over completely and her body relaxed in the pool of her own blood. He screamed and slammed a booted foot down on her ribs, and heard sickening cracks as they snapped.

She was dead and he couldn't do anything, as always she got the last word.

End

3 years ago today that happened, the war has finished and Potter had won, he, the turncoat, was married and had a baby girl and two boys. Yet he can't seem to get those words out of his head, sometimes he would wake covered in a cold sweat hearing those words. And Potter and co. never found out about their little Mudblood friend, he was safe.

However tonight he was afraid to sleep, he could help but have this nagging feeling something bad was going to happen. Each year on the day of her death he would dream, on the first year he woke up after cutting under her arm, on the next he woke after giving her the shallow cut above her chest and now there was only one more thing. To stab her over and over.

He was sitting in his study when he heard a noise, thinking it was one of the boys he left the safety of his work and went out to the parlor. There was a scream coming from the dungeons and without thinking he ran down there, he knew it was a women's scream thinking it was his wife, he ran down the steps and into the darkness.

He looked around and noticed there was nothing there he turned to leave and went to the door, it was a shock to him when he found it locked it started then, the whispering of the words he hated "Satisfied now?" the words as soft as wind tormented him.

He felt someone's eyes on him and he turned around, nothing could have prepared him for what he saw. Shaking his head he closed his eyes hoping it would go away, but it was there, _she _was there. Hermione Granger.

"Your dead, I killed you." he whispered.

She nodded her head sadly "Yes Draco, you did kill me."

She looked just like she did when he left her, bloody and dead. The only thing that had changed was her clothes; she was wearing a long white dress with a red sash tied underneath her breasts. He remembered that dress, she wore it the day they graduated school, but this dress was covered in blood.

One of her hands held the dagger that he used and in the other a white rose.

"Now it's your turn." His eyes widened as she moved with a speed no human could ever have. The dagger went through his heart, but unlike when he stabbed her, she only did it once. He let out a howl of pain and looked at her with disbelief.

He fell to the ground and she laid the white rose on him.

Walking back into the darkness she turned her head and asked "Satisfied Now?" before disappearing leaving him to die.

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I would just like to state that this is a practice story. I'm trying to learn how to put more detail into my story without over doing it.

Reviews are helpful. Thank you.


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